The ruins felt endless. Every corner of the crumbling city whispered of stories long forgotten, and every shadow seemed to hold secrets. Cale moved cautiously, the lantern held high as its flame illuminated the broken walls and shattered statues.
Each step felt heavier, not from exhaustion but from the weight of the place. There was something unnerving about how preserved some of the ruins were, as though they had been frozen in time.
Cale stopped by a toppled column, its surface etched with symbols. They weren't the random scratches of the natural terrain—these were deliberate, geometric, and precise. His fingers traced one of the carvings, and a faint spark of energy ran through his fingertips.
He jerked his hand back. The lantern flickered, and the carvings glowed faintly for a brief moment before dimming again.
"What was that?" Cale whispered.
The hum of the lantern grew louder, almost as if in answer, but no other sign of movement followed.
Nearby, a stone archway caught his attention. Unlike the rest of the ruins, this structure was mostly intact, its surface unmarred by time. The carvings on it were more intricate, and in the center of the arch, faint traces of glowing blue light pulsed like veins.
Cale approached cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. The arch radiated a faint warmth, and the glow in its center seemed to ripple like water.
"This can't be natural," he muttered. He reached out, his hand hovering just above the surface of the glowing light.
Before he could touch it, the glow rippled violently, and a sound like distant thunder echoed through the ruins. Cale stumbled back, gripping the lantern tightly as the archway's glow intensified.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw something within the light—a figure, standing motionless, watching him. But as quickly as it appeared, the light dimmed, and the archway fell silent once more.
Cale stood there, breathing heavily. Whatever he had seen, it wasn't his imagination.
"This place isn't abandoned," he murmured.